


Catching Feelings

by Rubyleaf



Category: DAYS (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Hilarity Ensues, Kimishita needs to get a clue, M/M, Ooshiba is an idiot, and a break from everything, help these losers, originally planned as a one-shot but Stuff Happened, then drama ensues because drama always ensues when I write things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8149444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyleaf/pseuds/Rubyleaf
Summary: Who on earth allowed Kimishita to get stuck in Ooshiba's head?! Ooshiba sure as hell didn't.





	1. Most Definitely Not a Crush

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to silverspatuler on Tumblr because THIS IS YOUR FAULT SILVER. This is what happens when you talk headcanons with me and I get too many ideas, it turns into a oneshot-turned-multichapter blob. I hope you're happy.

Kimishita Atsushi was everything Ooshiba Kiichi looked for in a frenemy.

In other words, he hated his guts. With a passion. Every part of that guy was irritating, annoying, getting on his last nerve. That was how things had been ever since they met; neither of them thought too much about it, simply taking it as one of the many constants in both their lives. Ooshiba couldn’t stand Kimishita, and Kimishita couldn’t stand Ooshiba, and they fought every time they spoke to each other. It was how things were.

But lately something had changed. It was only a small change, and to most people it was unnoticeable; but to Ooshiba it was a pretty big deal.

Lately, for some reason, he couldn’t get Kimishita off his mind.

It started with little things, harmless thoughts that would sneak their way into his mind without asking, details he’d never noticed before. Ooshiba suddenly caught himself wondering why he had never realized how green Kimishita’s eyes were– a dark foresty shade, rather pretty actuall– no, not pretty. Weird. It was weird. What normal person had eyes like that? They were way too green, it looked unnatural. Probably color contacts. Lame.

He went home that day and paid no mind to the weird ways of his brain, but only a few days later he was stretching on the side of the field and minding his own business when the next strange thing happened.

Stretching was boring. Almost as boring as running laps or those dull strategy meetings that always made him envy Kazama for his insta-snoozing skills. It was only natural that he let his eyes roam over the field, searching for something remotely interesting to watch, until they finally settled on a familiar figure.

Kimishita was already on the field, playing with a handful of third-years and practicing all the passes and tricks he had taught himself over the years. His feet were almost flying over the grass, graceful yet deadly precise, the ball obeying his every command. Darting around his opponents as if this was all a well-choreographed dance, he aimed for the goal and scored before the others had a chance to stop him.

He was amazing...

...ly strong. And skilled. As much as he hated it, Ooshiba had to admit that Kimishita Atsushi was kind of a useful addition to the team. And a worthy opponent. Watching him display all his skills made him just want to beat his teammate at soccer all the more.

That very second a ball came flying towards Ooshiba’s head, missing his face by inches.

“Hey, Kiichi!” Kimishita called across the field, giving him his trademark glare. “Slacking off again? Or just tired already?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Ooshiba realized he had stopped stretching a good while ago and had just been watching.

Crap.

For some reason that was a lot more embarrassing than he’d expected it to be.

“Is your aim getting worse, Kimishita?” he called back, hoping that his embarrassment didn’t translate to his voice. “The goal’s way over there! Need some new glasses, nerd? Somebody could get hurt you know!”

“That was the plan! Your stupid face is just screaming for target practice!”

“You still missed me though! How’s that?”

“Not to interrupt anything, but...”

Ooshiba spun around to find Kazama standing behind him, ball in hand and a large bruise forming on his forehead. “You guys do realize you hit me, right?”

\---

That was only the beginning.

Ever since that time, Ooshiba had found himself noticing things about Kimishita more and more often. He noticed how his hair flew behind him when he ran and how it framed his face and how strangely soft it looked, unfitting of a guy with such a harsh personality. He wondered how it felt like to touch it– to pull at it during their next fight, of course. Really, that loser haircut was practically made for being pulled at in fights.

He noticed how smooth his skin was, perfectly flawless and seemingly glowing with a natural beauty. It wasn’t fair, honestly. With that lifestyle and the junk food and bubblegum he kept munching on he really shouldn’t have skin like that, to say nothing of all the wrinkles he should have from that constant scowling. What was that guy doing to his skin, witchcraft or something? It was just another thing Ooshiba added to his ever-growing list of reasons why Kimishita Atsushi was suspicious.

He noticed the height difference between them, the way Kimishita was almost exactly one head shorter than him, the way he would sometimes get up on his tip-toes when they were arguing in an attempt to get closer to Ooshiba’s eye level. It was kind of cute, actually... as in, the lame kind of cute. Obviously. Compared to Ooshiba Kimishita was so short he looked almost tiny, and it was both hilarious and pathetic.

He noticed the way Kimishita would sometimes smile with pride at his teammates’ growth, part smirking, part genuinely smiling, and it kept doing unexplainable things to him. Sometimes that smile was almost contagious; sometimes it was irritating– what was he doing, smirking like a moron at other people’s progress? It wasn’t like he had done anything to help them get better! But sometimes, very rarely, Ooshiba found that stupid smile directed at himself and found a million butterflies stirring in his stomach, butterflies that he hurried to catch and calm down again. That smile was making him uncomfortable. Enemies shouldn’t be proud of each other’s growth... right? Kimishita was definitely being creepy.

He noticed every single one of Kimishita’s features, sharp yet delicate, his cheekbones, his jawline, his intense dark eyes under charcoal eyebrows. He noticed the way his brow furrowed when he was thinking hard, concentrating on a problem he was trying to solve. He noticed how unfairly long his dark lashes were. He noticed the curl of his lips when he pulled them into a scowl, the way they formed a pout when he was embarrassed, the way they always looked smooth and soft yet firm at the same time. He wondered how they felt like– when punching them, of course. Hitting that mouth would probably hurt this jerk enough to shut him up. Ooshiba made a mental note for their next fight, just in case.

All these weird realizations during practice weren’t enough. Kimishita was constantly stuck in Ooshiba’s head, in class, during lunch, on the way home, in his room, at the dinner table. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t stop thinking of him. Everything reminded him of his teammate. He couldn’t do anything without thinking of him, and it was getting on his last nerve.

What was wrong with him? And what was wrong with Kimishita? Who on earth had given him permission to completely ignore personal space and make himself at home in Ooshiba’s head? And why on earth couldn’t he just _take a hint and leave?_

Oh. Right. Because he had no idea he was stuck there. Duh.

But then what was Ooshiba supposed to do?

_Just don’t think of him,_ he told himself. _Don’t look at him, just ignore him. He can’t be annoying if you can’t see him._

Easier said than done. The more Ooshiba tried not to look, the stronger the urge got to turn around and look at Kimishita, check what he was doing, see the expression he was wearing. And once he finally gave in and turned around for a quick glance he found himself watching his teammate again, trying and failing to tear his gaze off him. Trying to ignore Kimishita was just making Ooshiba think about him more than ever, and it was infuriating.

Ignoring him was obviously not an option. So what else should he do?

What was even wrong with him in the first place? He had a feeling that this was crucial, that he wouldn’t be able to figure out a solution as long as he didn’t know what exactly the problem was. Shouldn’t he just watch and wait and try to figure out what was happening to him? That was what Kimi– what _anyone_ would do.

The answer to his questions came sooner than he bargained for. It came on a rainy day, one of those days that made it seem like the clouds were trying to drain all water from the planet and make it pour down above everyone’s heads, one of those days that made one wonder if the world would ever dry up again. Ooshiba had no clue why they had held practice outside in this weather or who had thought this was a good idea; all he knew was that everyone was soaked, dirty and miserable and half the team would probably be down with a cold by tomorrow. His only wish was to get rid of his dripping wet muddy jersey and put on something nice and dry as soon as possible.

The sound of a door slamming open snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to find Kimishita standing in the doorframe, shaking raindrops out of his hair before slipping off his shirt and squeezing the water out of it. Making sure not to drip on the floor too badly, he made his way over to his bag, rummaging through it in search of a towel.

It was a sight to behold. The dark waves of Kimishita’s hair looked almost black now, shimmering and shining yet messy, water dripping from every streak, running down his face and neck and shoulders, highlighting every detail of his lean but toned frame. His sun-kissed skin looked almost pale against his dark hair, both colors bringing out each other in a fierce contrast, the glimmering raindrops catching the light on his body, in his hair, in his dark eyelashes.

It was breathtaking. It was beautiful. _He_ was beautiful. Screw Ooshiba’s pride, screw everything, there was simply no other way to put it.

“Anything on my face?”

Ooshiba blinked to find a pair of vibrant green eyes glowering up at him and realized he’d been caught staring.

His face caught fire. His heartbeat pounded through his veins so loudly that he was sure Kimishita could hear it. The butterflies in his stomach were running wild. All he wanted was to crawl into a hole and hide from those eyes for the next decade.

Averting his eyes, he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Your face looks stupid.”

“That’s bold, coming from the guy who looks like a poodle in the rain,” Kimishita shot back. “You gonna dry off anytime soon, or are you gonna wait till there’s a lake around your feet?”

Ooshiba looked down to find that there was indeed a nice pool forming where the rain was dripping from his clothes and hair and remembered what he’d originally come here for. Unable to think of a comeback and grateful for the excuse to hide his furiously blushing face, he grabbed a towel and started drying off.

Kimishita left, the impression didn’t. And neither did the blush or the butterflies.

Ooshiba couldn’t get the image of him off his mind all day. Maybe it was just the realization that his teammate had looked beautiful that had hit him like a soccer ball to the face, but now that he thought about it, Kimishita was always stunning. Annoying as he was, he was still gorgeous.

Or maybe he wasn’t so annoying anymore. Maybe Ooshiba didn’t dislike him nearly as much as he thought he had.

His heart-pounding confusion followed him right into the realm of his dreams. He couldn’t remember the details of his dream afterwards, but he did remember that it involved Kimishita and soccer and holding hands and sharing a kiss in the rain.

It was a good dream.

Ooshiba woke up blushing profusely at the corny, sappy workings of his brain, trying and failing to keep his heart from pounding like crazy and the goddamn butterflies from racing each other in his stomach. This was beyond embarrassing. What was he, a middle school girl?

No. But he was in love.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. It made sense... it had been so obvious. So embarrassing, yet so painfully obvious.

Ooshiba Kiichi was in love with Kimishita Atsushi.

Great. Now what was he supposed to do?


	2. Idiot-syncrasies

Ooshiba still couldn’t believe he was doing this.

He was standing in front of a certain sports equipment store, bag slung over his shoulder, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Like he was just dropping by because he needed to buy stuff, and totally not to see and talk to his crush or anything.

One part of him was telling him to keep it down while the other was a bundle of raw nerves. Honestly, he shouldn’t be making such a big deal out of this; he’d been here before, and he had a convenient excuse to drop in, and they were still supposed to be enemies. Kimishita wouldn’t suspect anything. But his last visit here had been embarrassing enough, and the overgrown crush he was harboring now would definitely not help to make this any less awkward.

Fidgeting and telling his nervous body to calm down, he checked his watch and realized that he’d been standing here for almost ten minutes.

Okay, that settled it. He had to go in soon, or people would think he was a creep or stalker or something and call the cops on him. And leaving wasn’t an option; he might be a lot of things, but a chicken sure as hell wasn’t one of them.

Swallowing, he stepped towards the door and opened it.

Kimishita was sitting inside, reading a magazine and not noticing him at all, his glasses on his nose and wearing a shirt that could only be described as hideous. Ooshiba cringed inwardly. He had almost forgotten what a walking fashion disaster his teammate was.

He kind of liked that about him though. It made him more human.

He must have been standing and staring a little too long, because Kimishita finally looked up, his expression shifting from surprise to irritation as he recognized the boy standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Your store looks real bad,” Ooshiba blurted out before he could stop himself. “And your shirt’s ugly.”

Kimishita clicked his tongue at him, irritation growing by the second. “Are you here to _talk_ shit or to _buy_ shit?”

Ooshiba resisted the urge to throw a comeback at him. He wasn’t here to pick fights for crying out loud! They could do that at school. Instead he searched through his bag, taking out his run-down, now one-size-too-small cleats and holding them out towards Kimishita. “Here! I need new ones.”

Kimishita gave him a mocking smirk. “You’re not getting sick, are you? I think I just got a straight answer from you.”

“Problem?”

There it was again, that irritatingly, infuriatingly smug face that was just _screaming_ to get punched. “Out of comebacks?”

“Wow, talk about bad customer service.” Ooshiba knew he should shut up, knew he was about to make a huge mess of things, but his mouth was faster than his brain. “No wonder you’re almost broke!”

Kimishita’s eyes flickered and lit up like a pair of flashlights. For a few seconds the two boys were silent, unmoving, unblinking, eyes locked in an exchange of glares, ready to pounce.

Then Kimishita stood up, walked around the desk and grabbed Ooshiba’s collar, ready to punch him in the face, just as the latter did the same.

Ooshiba was half a second away from throwing the punch when his brain caught up with the situation.

Here he was, holding his crush by the collar, feeling his heat seeping through his clothes and his breath on his skin, their faces mere inches from each other.

If this was a movie he’d probably kiss him now. But this wasn’t a movie, and Ooshiba might be stubborn and irresponsible, but he sure as hell wasn’t suicidal. He was so not kissing a guy who was about to punch one of his eyes out.

But he had to do something. Kimishita was too close. Way too close!

Dodging the punch his teammate threw at him, he let go of his collar and stormed off into the shoe section, hoping and praying that Kimishita hadn’t seen his furiously blushing face.

So much for talking to his crush. He had messed up spectacularly.

Why was this so hard? It always looked so easy in the cheesy movies his sister was constantly forcing him to watch. How could all these characters just be smooth and win over the people they liked without struggling and freaking out and almost getting punched in the face and running off all flustered like a goddamn third-grader or something? Those movies sucked even more than he’d thought. Either that, or his life was one hell of a bad movie.

Clenching his fists, he tried to concentrate on the display of cleats in front of him. Maybe distracting himself would help those stupid butterflies in his gut calm the hell down. But they wouldn’t, no matter how hard he stared at the stacks of boxes and the seemingly endless number of near-identical shoes, trying and failing to find anything his size. This was the worst part about being tall; it was getting harder and harder to find things that fit.

“Try these.”

Ooshiba blinked to find a box of brand-new cleats shoved in his face. Brand-new cleats his size.

He looked up to find Kimishita holding them out to him, looking annoyed and disgruntled and slightly embarrassed, but to Ooshiba he might as well have been smiling. Kimishita was helping him. He was far from happy about it, but he was doing it anyway. Just like he always helped everyone despite complaining about it.

Blushing even brighter, he took the box from his hands, flinching when their fingers brushed together for a split second.

Kimishita’s hand was warm.

Avoiding his eyes like the plague, he sat down and tried on the cleats. They were a perfect fit; he could feel it the moment he put them on. Walking around in them felt like they’d always been there, like they belonged there, a part of him he didn’t know he’d been missing.

“I’ll take them.”

Kimishita nodded and made his way back to the cash desk. “Don’t expect a discount!”

“’Course not, Uncle Scrooge!”

Kimishita’s only reply was to give him the middle finger.

Ooshiba placed the cleats back into their box, carefully, like they were a precious treasure and not just a pair of shoes. Following Kimishita, he paid for them, careful not to meet his teammate’s eyes or touch his hand again. He didn’t think he could handle that in his current state.

It wasn’t until he was about to open the door and walk outside that he spoke up again. “Oh, and Kimishita?”

“What else do you want?”

Ooshiba lowered his head, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. “Thanks.”

A click of the tongue. “Go home!”

Ooshiba walked home on clouds, not noticing the half-smile Kimishita sent after him.

\---

“You again?” Green eyes glared at Ooshiba over the rim of oval glasses, half annoyed, half exasperated and not at all surprised. “Kiichi, this is the third time this week. What do you need this time?”

Ooshiba chose to ignore Kimishita’s remark. He was used to hearing it by now; after all, he kept coming here at every chance he got, always waiting for an excuse to turn up at the store, and Kimishita didn’t sound nearly as annoyed anymore, although he did appear increasingly confused. Ooshiba didn’t care. Maybe someday Kimishita would take a hint and figure out the reason behind his behavior, but he wasn’t so sure if he’d mind. Maybe he even wanted his teammate to figure it out, because he sure as hell didn’t have the courage to spell it out for him.

“I need new shoelaces,” he said, getting straight to the point. No picking fights today. At least that part was getting easier every time he dropped by here.

Kimishita’s frown intensified. “What happened to the ones you got on Friday?”

“I told you, they were too short!”

“No, what happened to the ones you got _after_ magically discovering that the shoelaces you bought before were the wrong size?”

The alarm bells went on in Ooshiba’s head. Kimishita was catching on, wasn’t he? He was catching on, he was about to figure it out, and Ooshiba wasn’t ready at all. Screw wanting him to figure it out, he’d die of embarrassment if he did.

And his explanation for today’s visit wasn’t helping his case at all.

“...my dog ate them.”

“Are you kidding m–”

“My big sis’ dog.”

“That’s not the issue here–”

“Look!” Face glowing red with embarrassment, he took out his cleats and held them out towards Kimishita, showing him the chewed-up shoelaces.

Kimishita’s eyes narrowed dangerously, glaring daggers up at him. “How many times have I told you to take care of your equipment?”

“Guess what, smartass, I was!” Ooshiba shot back, feeling irritation boil in his blood. “I left my cleats alone for _five minutes_ and when I came back I found them like this, with the pup next to them looking all dumb! What do you think I should’ve done, huh?”

He was interrupted by a snort. Looking down, he found Kimishita pressing his head against the table, face buried in his arms, shoulders trembling as the muffled sound of barely suppressed laughter emerged from the desk.

“Shut up!” Ooshiba wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed, infuriated, flustered, or some awkward combination of all three. “The hell are you laughing for, moron?”

Kimishita’s only response was to laugh even harder. Sitting back up, he tried to catch his breath and wipe the tears from his eyes, but he still couldn’t manage to get that stupid grin off his face. And a moment later he was laughing again, although he all too quickly covered it up with his hands and faked a cough.

Ooshiba gaped at him, mesmerized. Kimishita was laughing, laughing about him, sure, but still laughing. And smiling. Not smirking in annoyance, not even half-smirking, but actually, genuinely smiling, and Ooshiba couldn’t take his eyes off him. That little grin was so pure, so honest, so unlike Kimishita’s usual attitude that he couldn’t help but feel a tug at his heartstrings.

It was adorable.

So even Kimishita had a side like this. A side that wasn’t cranky or aggressive, a side that could smile the most contagious of smiles and had the world’s cutest laugh and the power to make Ooshiba’s knees weak and his chest warm and fluttery and his face bright red. He felt like he had just discovered a secret, like he had stumbled across a hidden treasure only a select few people had seen before.

Kimishita’s smile faded too quickly and was replaced by a very embarrassed scowl. His cheeks turned pink as he glared into the general direction of Ooshiba’s feet, mumbling, “Tell anyone about this and I’ll kill you.”

“I won’t,” Ooshiba said, still in a daze. Even though it had only vanished a second ago, he already missed that smile. That stupid face was so addictive; now that he’d seen it once, he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to see it again. And again and again and again, a thousand times, a million times, all the time.

“Ah?” Kimishita’s scowl intensified as he glared up at him suspiciously. “Did your dog eat your attitude too?”

Ooshiba stared back at him, realizing his mistake. This wasn’t like him at all. Normally he should have made some sort of joke or comeback or tried to tell the entire world or said something, anything to get on Kimishita’s nerves. Quietly agreeing was the worst he could have done! But he couldn’t let that show, could he? He had to act like this was normal. “What...?!”

“You’re acting weirdly nice today!” Kimishita snapped at him, clicking his tongue. “Either you’re getting sick or you’re up to something.”

“Well, sorry for trying to keep a cool head! Who told me to do that again?”

“Cool head my ass! If anything you’re an airhead!”

“Better an airhead than a dickhead!”

“Better a dickhead than a soccer ball for a head!”

“I’d take that over your dumb face anytime!”

Kimishita jumped to his feet, ready to storm over and punch Ooshiba in the face. Ooshiba’s senses came roaring back to life, screaming a warning, telling him to run away and get the hell out of here before Kimishita had a chance to grab his collar and get too close to him again.

Cursing himself, he spun around on his heel and stormed off towards the door.

“Kiichi!” Kimishita called after him. “What about the shoelaces?”

“Keep them! I’m gonna buy them elsewhere!”

“On what money? You dropped your wallet, genius!”

Ooshiba stopped in his tracks and reached into his pocket, searching for his wallet. It really was gone.

Was it just him, or was he seriously screwing up today?

Saying goodbye to his last bit of dignity, he turned around to find Kimishita holding out his wallet to him, looking torn between amusement and annoyance.

“Shut up!” he snapped before Kimishita could say anything, snatched the wallet from his grip and stormed out... and hit his head against the doorframe.

Correction: He was screwing up completely today.

And right now he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and hide for a decade. Or two or five.

But still, he had made Kimishita laugh. That had to count for something, right? One humiliation was worth it.

He wanted to keep coming back. He wanted to spend more time with Kimishita. He wanted to see that smile again, touch that hand again, hear that voice say his name. Even if that meant screwing up and humiliating himself over and over. There were enough moments to make it worth the trouble.


	3. For All I Know

Kiichi had definitely been acting weird lately.

At first Kimishita had dismissed it as his overactive imagination, as him seeing things where there were none, but things had gone far beyond that stage now. This wasn’t his imagination, this was just plain strange, and he had no idea what to do about it.

It had started with Kiichi spacing out at random times and staring at him until he was caught staring and hurriedly looked away. At first Kimishita had wondered if there was anything strange on his face, but after several weeks of only ever catching Kiichi looking at him, he concluded that couldn’t be the case. And just when he had been about to drop the matter and dismiss it as one of his teammate’s neverending idiosyncrasies, Kiichi had started coming to his father’s store. One time, then another and another and another, with increasing frequency and a decreasing credibility of excuses why he was here again today.

And now this.

“Tutor me.”

Kimishita stared blankly up at Kiichi, who had planted himself in front of his desk, slamming his hands down on it and wearing an expression that probably would have scarred the first-years for life. “What.”

A stack of tests was shoved in his face, all of them marked with nightmarish scores. “I said tutor me, I’m failing all my classes!”

“You don’t say!” Kimishita shot back at him, leaning back in his seat to get the goddamn tests out of his face. “Now put those things away, you think I’m blind?” He narrowed his eyes at his teammate. “Why do you suddenly care about your grades, anyway?”

“I’m gonna have to take a make-up exam if I fail.” Kiichi stared at the window, avoiding Kimishita’s eyes. “On the day of the quarterfinals.”

“...So if you fail, you can’t play.” Kimishita understood where he was coming from, but that didn’t make the whole situation any less jarring.

Kiichi nodded. “I’d hate it if you guys lost because the ace was missing–”

“Then get off your lazy ass and study!”

“I’m trying, jerk-face! Whaddya think I asked you for?”

Kimishita clicked his tongue. Even if he had an explanation, there was still no reason for Kiichi to come to _him_ of all people, was there? And honestly he was busy enough as things were. Why the hell should he take up another task and help a guy he didn’t even get along with?

“Why me?” he snapped. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Kiichi wanted to spend time with him... no, that couldn’t be it. Kiichi would be the last person to want that. There had to be some other explanation he couldn’t figure out, and it was driving him nuts. “There’s a ton of smart people here, go ask somebody else!”

“You’re the smartest in our grade!” Kiichi’s face was red with embarrassment, like he didn’t want to be doing this either, like he was here despite himself. “Or do you just not wanna tutor me ‘cause you get those grades by cheating?”

_Oh no he didn’t._

Gritting his teeth, Kimishita leaped to his feet, knocking over his chair, and yanked Kiichi forward by his tie, ready to punch him in the face. “You say that again and I’ll kill you!”

Kiichi didn’t try to punch him. All he did was struggle, trying to break free from Kimishita’s unwavering grip, his face glowing redder than his beloved tomatoes. “Why don’t you prove those grades are real?” he asked in the general direction of the window. “Just stop bitching and tutor me already!”

“I’m telling you, get someone else! I’m busy!”

Kiichi turned back to glare at him for a long moment. Kimishita glared back. Neither of them spoke a word, neither of them blinked.

It was Kiichi who finally averted his eyes. Pulling his tie from Kimishita’s grip, he turned around and stomped off, kicking an empty chair out of his path in frustration.

Kimishita stared after him in complete and utter confusion. Was it normal to be this frustrated after one person refused to tutor him? Sure, Kimishita was the smartest in their grade and it would take nothing short of a miracle to get Kiichi to pass his exams and play in the match, but it wasn’t like there wasn’t anyone else around who could help him. And even if he couldn’t find anyone in their own grade, he could always ask the third-years or something.

So why...?

Did he maybe think Kimishita was the only one who could help him in time?

That thought was pretty unlikely, but... it was somehow flattering.

The hint of a smile crossed his face before he could stop it. Kiichi had come to him of all people to ask for help, despite his pride, despite everything, because he was thinking of the team. Kiichi cared about the next match enough to ask his own frenemy to tutor him. For once he was being responsible, even if the motive behind was still selfish. He was thinking about the consequences of his actions now.

Kimishita didn’t really dislike that side of Kiichi. In fact, he liked it. It made him proud somehow, proud of his teammate’s growth, as a player and as a person.

He should probably support that side when he saw it.

Sighing in defeat, he started walking into the direction where Kiichi had gone. Fine, he’d tutor the idiot. If it was something he could do for the team, he’d do it.

Possibly seeing more of Kiichi’s responsible side was just an added bonus.

\---

Ooshiba sat on the rooftop, munching on his lunch and studying his notes. Well, trying to study. In reality he was just glaring holes at them, the paper crumpling in his grip while his mind was elsewhere.

That stupid Kimishita. Why was he so adamant on not tutoring him? As if it was such a huge deal to help out a teammate in need! And he always helped everyone, even if he complained. So what had been his problem this time? Did he really hate Ooshiba’s guts that much? Had this ruse been too obvious? Whatever it was, he didn’t have the damn right to...

_Oh well._

It wasn’t like Ooshiba couldn’t study just fine on his own. He was actually smart, all he’d have to do is revise those notes some more and then he could get the best grades in the class, if not his whole year. That’s right, he’d study a lot and get the best score all by himself and show that damn Kimishita for sure! How hard could it be?

Channeling all his fighting spirit, he grabbed the first notebook and started reading.

He didn’t get very far.

The fact that he could barely read his own handwriting was only the least of his problems. His notes flat-out didn’t make sense. What had he been thinking when he wrote this down? What had the teacher been saying? Had Ooshiba actually understood this part when taking notes? Had he been listening at all?

Dammit, he couldn’t remember!

Groaning in frustration, he reached for his textbook, hurriedly searching through it. There had to be something on this subject, right? They had to explain it somewhere, or at least explain it enough for Ooshiba’s notes to make sense... right? Come on, come on!

“Page 214.”

Ooshiba nearly jumped out of his skin. Laser-focused on his studies, he hadn’t noticed the shadow looming over him at all.

He looked up to find Kimishita standing behind him, watching him over his shoulder, arms crossed, meeting his gaze with an icy glare. He looked annoyed, irritated, and anything but comfortable.

But he’d come anyway, Ooshiba realized, his heartbeat speeding up like an airplane taking off. Kimishita had come, despite his protests, despite telling him off and refusing to help him, repeatedly. He didn’t want to do this, but here he was anyway. Even though he was busy. Even though they didn’t get along.

The look on Kimishita’s face shifted from annoyance to anger. “What are you staring for?”

“Why...” Ooshiba tried, but he couldn’t really sound annoyed in return. Not when his insides were all kinds of surprised and giddy and stupidly, ridiculously happy. “Why are you here?”

“What does it look like?” Kimishita shot back. “Can’t have you flunk out and miss the match, moron!”

Clicking his tongue in irritation, he sat down next to Ooshiba and reached for his notebook. “You owe me big for this.”

\---

Tutoring Kiichi was a lot less annoying than Kimishita had feared. Sure, his teammate was stupid, spectacularly so; in fact, he was probably the only guy on the team who could out-stupid Mizuki “Speaks In Sound Words” Hisahito, and more often than not Kimishita had to explain and simplify something over and over again until his student finally got it. But Kiichi tried. He tried so hard Kimishita was almost moved every time they got together to study, tried so hard to get passing grades and understand everything and prove that he could do it that Kimishita couldn’t help the feeling of pride stirring in his chest. This was it, this was the Kiichi he wanted to see. The Kiichi he could actually see himself getting along with every once in a while.

Still, it was strange. Was he just not used to the changes in his attitude yet, or was Kiichi trying a little _too_ hard? Kimishita understood that he was desperate to play in the match, but the Kiichi he knew still wouldn’t be half as enthusiastic about studying as he was now. If he didn’t know better, Kimishita would say it was almost as if he was trying to impress someone with his hard work. But who? The only one who really saw him study was Kimishita himself, and there was no way in hell Kiichi would ever want to impress him. Right?

But there was more.

There was the way Kiichi’s hands would constantly brush against Kimishita’s during their study sessions– on accident most likely, even if it happened a little too often for Kimishita’s liking. Kiichi was a giant with giant hands and often clumsy to boot, he was probably just having trouble putting those huge hands somewhere where they didn’t get in the way. There were Kiichi’s increasingly frequent visits at the shop– sometimes not even to buy equipment but to simply check the discounts or see if anything new had arrived, and more often than not to offer unwanted advice on how to improve sales (which turned out to be surprisingly useful, although Kimishita would never admit that). There was the way Kiichi would back out of fights, something he’d never done before, under the pretense of suddenly being busy, his face turning redder than his hair.

Kimishita had absolutely no idea what was the matter with him, and to be honest he didn’t really want to know. He didn’t mind the way things were now; the store’s sales had increased drastically since the start of Kiichi’s regular visits, and tutoring his teammate was earning him a decent buck and a lot of recognition from the third-years. It was quite relaxing, actually.

He didn’t enjoy Kiichi’s presence. But he didn’t really dislike it either.

Kimishita almost snorted at that realization. Him, admitting to himself that he didn’t dislike his supposed-to-be-enemy’s presence? He must be growing soft.

And here he was, standing in line at the cafeteria, occasionally pushing his way through the crowd, even though he hated waiting in lines almost as much as he hated having to make his way through large crowds, just to get them both a snack for their next tutoring lesson.

Yes, both. Maybe he really was growing soft, but he felt like Kiichi deserved a treat, what with all the hard work he’d been putting in lately. Hard work was something that should be rewarded, right? Especially coming from someone as childish and irresponsible as Kiichi.

Or maybe it was just Kimishita’s nature. Maybe it was the fact that he enjoyed helping people grow and reach their full potential, that he enjoyed taking pride in their success. If it helped him reach that goal, a simple bit of melon bread was no expense at all.

\---

Ooshiba was already there, as usual. He wasn’t normally the type to show up to anything on time if he could help it, but being late to their study sessions meant less time spent with Kimishita, as well as getting lectured (annoying enough) and the risk of picking a fight (outright dangerous, especially Kimishita’s habit of grabbing his collar and getting all up in his face). So here he was, sitting in their meeting spot on the roof and trying to revise his notes when he heard steps approaching him and glanced up...

...only to barely catch something that came flying at his face.

“Hey!” he burst out, glowering at his tutor in irritation. “What the–” He glanced down at the item in his hands, eyes widening in surprise. “ _Melon bread?_ ”

He looked up at Kimishita, demanding some sort of explanation, but his teammate was pointedly looking at the courtyard below, completely ignoring Ooshiba’s confused look.

“What’s this for?” he ventured when Kimishita continued to make no attempts to explain. “Hey, are you actually treating me to food, jerk-face? What’s next, flying pigs or something?”

“Shut up!” Kimishita was still refusing to look him in the eye. “You need sugar, studying takes energy! And...” He gritted his teeth, cheeks tipping pink with embarrassment, struggling to get the next words out. “It’s a reward. Good work lately.”

An arrow shot straight through Ooshiba’s heart. _Dammit, is he doing that on purpose?_  Nobody had given Kimishita permission to suddenly start acting so, so... nice! Awkward and grumpy, yet kind and caring... It was too much. Ooshiba’s heart was doing backflips, his pulse was racing, his face was burning, the butterflies in his stomach were going crazy. He hated this feeling... but he loved it.

Gripping the melon bread with both hands, he watched as Kimishita walked over and sat down next to him, adjusting his glasses and looking through his notebook to see where they had left off yesterday, happily oblivious to Ooshiba’s sorry state. And Ooshiba was grateful... but it was so frustrating, so infuriating! How could this guy completely ignore what had to be so glaringly obvious? No matter what Ooshiba did, Kimishita never seemed to catch as much as a hint. Or was he ignoring them on purpose, pretending not to have noticed? No, Kimishita wasn’t the type to be able to hide his emotions that well. He was just dense as a brick, stupid, perfectly clueless.

How much more would Ooshiba have to do until he finally got it?

He’d had enough. He’d had it with being subtle. This called for more drastic measures.

Swallowing his fear and pride, he reached out a hand and placed it on top of Kimishita’s.

Kimishita continued to look at his notes as he budged, trying to shake Ooshiba’s hand off his own. Ooshiba didn’t budge, curling his fingers around Kimishita’s hand.

Kimishita didn’t even look up.

Ooshiba clenched his teeth, his embarrassment and nervousness evaporating, leaving nothing behind but annoyance, frustration and white-hot rage. He’d had it. He’d had enough. He’d had it with this guy and his unwavering stupidity. It was time to settle this, once and for all.

He leaped to his feet, knocking the notebook from Kimishita’s grip, still not letting go of his hand. Kimishita finally glanced up, surprise and irritation and utter confusion in his eyes.

Ooshiba grabbed his collar and slammed him into the nearest wall.

“ _Take a hint, dammit!_ ”


	4. Overwhelmed

Kimishita froze.

Too fast. Everything was happening too fast. Like someone had suddenly thrown the world around him into time-lapse. He had no idea what was happening to him anymore.

Take a hint? A hint of what? What was Kiichi doing, what was he talking about? Why was he so mad all of a sudden?

“Take a hint of what?” he snapped at the boy looming over him, one hand still gripping his own, the other pinning him to the wall. “Whatever it is, it better be worth shoving me into a wa–”

“Are you really that stupid?” Kiichi was trembling with rage, his grip tightening until his knuckles were white, his eyes glowing with a fire Kimishita had never seen before. “I can’t believe I fell for you!”

Kimishita opened his mouth and closed it again. Had he just heard this right? Had Kiichi just said what he thought he had?

“What the fu–”

“ _I love you, moron!_ ”

There was a moment’s silence.

Kimishita suddenly became aware of small sounds coming to him from the distance. A car passing by in the street below. Scattered voices rising up from the school yard. A stray leaf rustling in the wind.

He looked into Kiichi’s eyes, searching for an explanation. There was none, nothing that would explain his anger, his sudden confession. The only thing Kimishita saw in his eyes was raw, untamed emotion, emotion that gave him no answers, only more questions.

This... was a joke, right? Of course it was, it had to be. There was no other logical–

Images popped up in his head, one after another. Kiichi staring at him during practice. Kiichi visiting the store on the pretense of needing new equipment. Kiichi backing away from a fight when Kimishita got close. Kiichi asking for help with his grades, Kiichi getting frustrated when Kimishita rejected him. Kiichi brushing their hands together on accident.

Except... they hadn’t been accidents. It had all been on purpose.

He didn’t know how. He didn’t know why. But he finally knew that Ooshiba Kiichi was in love with him. There was no way to deny it anymore.

Kiichi loved him. Had loved him for months.

Kimishita didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to feel. His head was spinning. The world was still going too fast, rushing ahead and pulling him along by the collar, without giving him time to breathe. What should he do? How should he reply? How did he feel about Kiichi? Nothing seemed certain anymore.

So he turned to the one thing his mind and heart would always turn to when all other defense mechanisms failed.

Anger.

“Are you kidding me?” he burst out, his blood boiling, his free hand gripping Kiichi’s shirt, ready to punch him. “Where the fuck does this come from? You, in love with me? Don’t make me laugh!”

Kiichi opened his mouth to reply, but Kimishita wouldn’t let him. He didn’t want to hear his explanations. He didn’t want to hear anything. All he wanted was to get away and forget about everything.

“Shut up!” he yelled before Kiichi could speak. “What is wrong with you? Last time I checked, we were enemies!”

Kiichi blinked, his grip on Kimishita’s hand loosening. There was anger in his eyes, surprise, confusion, disappointment. He looked... hurt, somehow.

Kimishita knew he should shut up. The last bit of reason in his mind was screaming at him to stop, that he’d regret it if he said anything else. But just this once, he paid no mind to it. He was too overwhelmed, too shocked, too furious.

“And what’s with that confession, anyway?” His voice was shaking with rage, but he didn’t care. “Who do you think you can win over with that, huh? Well,” he took a deep breath, “no matter how you ask me out, there’s no way I’d ever accept it anyway!”

Kiichi flinched. His hands let go of Kimishita’s collar and wrist as he stepped back, lowering his head, his bangs obscuring his face. His shoulders were trembling.

“So that’s how you feel,” he said quietly, bitterness shaking in his voice, making it crack and crumble as if it was about to break. “Good to know. And here I thought we were friends! I thought you being nice to me actually meant something!”

He spun around and stormed off, not even bothering to pick up his notebooks, turning his head away so Kimishita wouldn’t see the look on his face. But just for a split second, he did.

Just for a split second Kimishita caught a glimpse of his face. Just for a split second he saw Kiichi’s expression, the look of disappointment and frustration and betrayal in his eyes, his whole face clenched together with indescribable, unbearable pain.

Kimishita’s anger vanished in an instant. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. What had he done? Was he out of his mind? He’d never meant for this to happen. He’d never meant to hurt Kiichi like that. He hadn’t meant to see that look on his face, hear that crack in his voice.

_Kiichi, wait._

Kimishita knew he should say something. He knew he should go after Kiichi and apologize, tell him he hadn’t meant what he said, that it had just been the panic speaking. He knew he shouldn’t just stand here and watch Kiichi leave with that hurt, betrayed, heartbroken expression on his face.

But he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. All he could do was stare at the direction where Kiichi had gone, hoping against hope that he’d come back, knowing that he wouldn’t. His entire body was frozen, tongue-tied, like a puppet cut off from its strings. He scoffed at himself. _Pathetic._

Why was he such an idiot?

Why could he never stand by his true feelings when it mattered?

_Kiichi, I’m so sorry._

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself off the wall and mechanically started picking up Kiichi’s notebooks and melon bread from where they lay scattered on the ground. He’d have to return those to him during practice later.

Providing that Kiichi showed up to practice, anyway.

\---

He did, but he refused to let Kimishita talk to him. No matter what happened, Kiichi ignored him completely, avoiding him, refusing to look at him or staring right through him when there was no other way. Whenever Kimishita tried to get his attention, he didn’t look up. Whenever Kimishita spoke to him, he silently walked away.

Kimishita felt horrible. Not just because he couldn’t return those notebooks to him, or even because he was being ignored. No, he deserved that. What really hurt him was the face Kiichi made whenever he turned away, the look in his eyes every time he thought Kimishita wasn’t looking.

He was still upset, still heartbroken, desperately trying not to show it in front of the team, pretending to be fine when he so clearly wasn’t. Kiichi wasn’t just avoiding Kimishita because he was mad at him, he was avoiding him because looking at him and interacting with him would just hurt him even more.

Maybe he needed time. Maybe they both needed time. Time to cool off and come to terms with their feelings, time to get a hold of the situation and make up, or at least get this figured out somehow. That was probably what the third-years would say if Kimishita asked them, and even if he didn’t like the thought of waiting, he knew there was no other way.

So he stopped his attempts to talk to Kiichi and simply left his notebooks and the melon bread next to his bag for him to see after practice.

Kiichi seemed surprised when he got to his bag, but other than that his face betrayed no emotion. Without batting an eye, he stuffed the books in his bag, got changed and left in a hurry.

The melon bread remained behind on the bench.

Haibara was the first to notice it, carefully walking up to it like it was a rare and shy animal species. “What’s that?” he asked. “Food? Heeey, Shiba!” he called after Kiichi, who only quickened his pace. “You forgot your food!”

Kiichi didn’t turn around. He only hurried around a corner and was gone.

“Sheesh, what’s with him?” Haibara mused, staring after him. “It’s not like Shiba to leave food behind, is he getting sick or something? Oh well,” he opened the plastic wrapper and took a big bite, “finders keepers!”

Kimishita wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. But at the moment the majority of him leaned towards the latter.

All he wanted was to go home and forget about this disaster of a day.

Lowering his head, he finished changing clothes and walked home without saying a word.

Just when he finally reached the safety of his room and was about to collapse on the bed and hide his face in the pillow for the rest of the day, his phone buzzed. He gave a quiet groan. Who had the nerve to disturb him now? Whatever it was, it better be important.

His phone indicated one new message. It was from Kiichi.

_u dont have to tutor me anymore._

He tapped the Reply button, his hand hovering over the keyboard. There was so much he wanted to write, so much he wanted to tell Kiichi.

_I’m sorry for today. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just... confused and overwhelmed and panicking and had no idea what was going on anymore. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just need time to think before I can say how I feel about you and answer your confession. But I promise I don’t hate you. Not anymore._

He didn’t write any of that. The only thing he wrote was a single word.

_Okay._


	5. All I Need

“U-Um, Kimishita-senpai? Kimishita-senpai!”

A familiar voice snapped Kimishita out of his reverie. Blinking, he shook off his thoughts and turned to find Tsukamoto standing in front of him, fidgeting nervously, a worried expression on his face. “What?”

Tsukamoto shifted from one foot to the other. “W-Well, uh, not that it’s really any of my business, but, um...” He scratched his cheek with one finger. “Did anything happen... between you and Ooshiba-senpai?”

_Busted._

Kimishita had to keep himself from jolting at the mention of Kiichi’s name, his eyes instinctively roaming over the field, searching for his teammate and relieved to find he wasn’t nearby.

But still, was it really that obvious? To think that Tsukamoto had noticed... he couldn’t help wondering who else knew.

He couldn’t let that show, of course. His frown turned into a glare as he took a step towards Tsukamoto, glowering down at him as menacingly as possible. “Ah?”

Tsukamoto jumped and stumbled back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude!” he stammered, hands waving about in an apologetic gesture. “I could be wrong, but I just thought... lately it seemed like you and Ooshiba-senpai were finally getting along a little better, but now you’ve been avoiding each other since yesterday so I was wondering... did you have a fight?”

Damn, this kid was sharper than he looked.

Kimishita had no answer to his question, no lie he could tell him about what had happened, and like hell he was going to tell him the truth. He just lowered his gaze, staring at the ground as he grumbled, “It’s all that idiot’s fault.”

“S-So you did have a fight?” Tsukamoto looked more worried than ever. “Well, then, um... of course I don’t know what you fought over, but... I-I think you should talk things out and make up. I mean... you’re friends, right?”

_You’re friends, right?_

Were they? Kimishita didn’t know. He’d never thought about it, but now that he considered it, Tsukamoto was probably right. Friends visited each other at work. Friends helped each other study. Friends met up on the rooftop for lunch break. Friends bought each other snacks from the cafeteria. To an outsider they must have looked like friends for ages.

_Last time I checked, we were enemies!_

_And here I thought we were friends!_

Another pang of guilt shot through his chest. What had he done? He had messed up everything.

_I’ve been so blind._

Tsukamoto continued to watch him with a concerned expression, obviously trying to think of something else to say, when Kazama snuck up on him from behind, covering his eyes. “Tsukushi! Guess who!”

“K-Kazama-kun!” Tsukamoto nearly jumped, then started laughing as Kazama lowered his hands to snake them around his waist instead. “You startled me, you know...”

Kazama laughed. “Sorry, man. I was actually just gonna ask if you wanna do the warmup stretches together, you in?”

“Sure!” Tsukamoto said with an enthusiastic nod, beaming at his boyfriend, who made no attempts to release him from the hug. “But, um, we can’t stretch like this, Kazama-kun...” He giggled. “You’ll have to let go of me!”

“Just a little longer!” Kazama pulled him even closer, if that was actually physically possible, burying his nose in his shoulder. “You’re so nice and warm.”

“ _Kazama-kun!_ ”

Kimishita glared at them both with fury in his eyes, feeling even more fed up with their lovey-dovey behavior than he usually was. “Get a room, you two!”

“Uh-oh, looks like someone’s having a bad day. Exit stage right.” Kazama let go of Tsukamoto’s waist, only to grab his hand instead, pulling him along. “Let’s go, Tsukushi!”

Kimishita glowered after them in irritation before turning away to mind his own business.

Or tried to, anyway.

It wasn’t long before he heard Kazama burst out laughing, and maybe he would have paid it no mind if it hadn’t been followed by, “You asked him _what?_ Tsukushi, you’re incredible!”

Kimishita’s interest perked up. Were they talking about him? Before he knew what he was doing, he tried to tune in on the conversation, listening to his underclassmen while pretending to be occupied.

“Yeah, uh, should I not have?” Tsukamoto sounded genuinely confused and a little nervous; Kimishita imagined him scratching his cheek again as he spoke. “I tried asking Ooshiba-senpai first, but he walked out on me before I could finish the question.”

Kazama laughed even louder, roaring, howling with laughter, probably doubling over with tears in his eyes. Everyone had to be staring.

Kimishita was listening closely.

Finally Kazama calmed down a little, and Tsukamoto sounded even more confused than before as he asked, “Uh, what’s so funny?”

Kazama went dead serious from one second to the next. “Eh?” he asked, sounding confused in his turn. “You really haven’t noticed, Tsukushi?”

“Noticed... what?”

“Kiichiman likes Kimishita-kun.”

Kimishita froze.

Tsukamoto still sounded unfazed. “Of course he does,” he said, and Kimishita’s heart skipped a beat. “I mean, they’re friends, right?”

Kimishita let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. So at least there was one person on the team who was even more clueless than he was.

“Not _that_ kind of like!” Kazama laughed again. “The _other_ kind of like, silly. The way I like you.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“Eh... eh?! Huh? Y-You mean...” Tsukamoto’s voice was high-pitched with shock, wobbly from the failed attempt not to yell too loudly. “The _like_ kind of like?”

“Uh-huh. I’m not so sure about Kimishita-kun though.” Kazama’s voice was so calm, so laidback, so infuriatingly casual that it took all of Kimishita’s willpower not to storm over and punch him in the face. “Who knows, maybe Kiichiman confessed to him and got rejected.”

“What? That’s bad! That’s really bad! What do we do...”

“I don’t think it’s something we can do anything about, Tsukushi.”

Kimishita tuned them out. His head was reeling. So Kiichi’s crush on him really had been that obvious, obvious enough for everyone to notice, everyone except him and Tsukamoto, obvious enough for Kazama to put the pieces together and guess what had happened.  _Who knows, maybe Kiichiman confessed to him and got rejected._  How could he say that like it was no big deal? It wasn’t even true in the first place. Kimishita had never rejected him–

Well, he had. But he hadn’t meant it.

If he hadn’t panicked, what would he have said instead? Would he have rejected Kiichi’s confession? Would he have accepted it?

_I’m not so sure about Kimishita-kun though._

Well, neither was he. How did he feel about Kiichi? He didn’t dislike him, of course, and he cared about him and had grown attached to him somehow, attached to his presence and company. If anyone were to ask him if he liked Kiichi or not, he would probably say that he did. But was that love?

Did he love Ooshiba Kiichi?

\---

The store felt so empty today.

Kimishita knew he should be glad his shift was so peaceful, knew he should be glad that he could do his homework while minding the store so he could have some more time for himself later. His old self would have thanked life, the universe and all the gods in the world for such a peaceful shift, one that didn’t require him to interact with people.

But not today. Today he couldn’t concentrate on his homework, no matter how hard he tried. His eyes kept straying to the door every few minutes, hoping to hear approaching steps, hoping to see someone walk in and look around and maybe voice some unreasonable request before buying something. He’d even be fine with people just walking in to take shelter from the rain. Anything was better than this silence.

Maybe it was that he’d grown so accustomed to Kiichi’s regular visits. They had almost become part of his daily routine, a steady factor in the unsteady ways of his life, providing a distraction in his dull evening shift. It was strange, but without them his day didn’t feel complete anymore.

_Please let something happen. A customer. Somebody knocking over the displays outside. Neighborhood kids breaking a window. Anything._

The door opened, and Kimishita was on his feet before the customer even took a step inside.

It was a graceful old lady, the elegant type that looked completely out of place in a store like this. Said her soccer-crazy grandson was turning eleven next week, and she really needed help finding him a suitable birthday present. Kimishita helped her look for one, gave her advice as well as he could, and in the end she settled on a pair of goalkeeper gloves and the jersey of some team the kid was a fan of. She gave him a generous tip and thanked him over and over and promised to recommend the store to everyone she knew, and when she was leaving she turned on the doorstep and thanked him again.

Kimishita gave her a small smile and felt absolutely nothing.

The old lady, wonderful as she probably was, hadn’t changed anything about the feeling of emptiness that still weighed down on Kimishita’s shoulders like a giant granite rock. He still felt lonely. No... if anything, he was more lonely than before.

When that grandma had walked in, he had only felt relieved for a split second. Then a feeling of disappointment had crept over him as he saw her face, a disappointment that didn’t really make sense, not even to himself. But when the door had opened, part of him had secretly hoped to see a tall frame, turquoise eyes and a messy mop of chestnut hair.

The realization hit him like a punch in the face. It wasn’t company he missed. He missed _Kiichi_. He missed the way he’d throw the door open, walking in like he owned the place, the newest excuse on his lips, bright eyes taking in all the changes made since his last visit to the store. He missed the plethora of funny faces Kiichi would make when they spoke to each other, the awkward attempts to talk normally, without provoking each other or picking a fight, the clumsy accidents he kept getting into whenever he was nervous or flustered. He even missed their fights, their endless exchanges of insults and sarcasm, sometimes witty, usually petty and childish, and even the times when they were seconds away from punching each other in the face.

He had liked all of that, he realized. He had enjoyed Kiichi’s presence, even if he hadn’t noticed it until now that he might not return to the store ever again.

Kiichi might not come back here again, ever. Kimishita clenched his fists, one hand tightly gripping his pen. That thought hurt more than he thought it could. It was like part of him had been torn off, a part of him he hadn’t known he needed.

Yes, Kiichi had been his friend. He wanted to see him again, talk to him, spend time with him. He missed him, he needed him, maybe not in the way Kiichi needed _him_ , but he definitely liked him. A lot.

But... was that love?

\---

The days crawled by. Nothing changed. Kiichi still went around ignoring and avoiding Kimishita, and Kimishita found himself watching him whenever he wasn’t looking, missing their time together, wondering if it was love he felt for him or just friendship. His brain was telling him to do something about this awkwardness, to just talk to Kiichi and explain everything to him and apologize, but his heart wouldn’t agree. It refused to do or say anything before it had certainty about its own feelings, and certainty just wouldn’t come.

How could he even tell if he was in love, anyway? Up till now, Kimishita had only ever fallen in love against his will, denying his feelings to himself, only admitting his crush when it had finally grown too big to ignore. Back then he’d been afraid of falling in love, knowing his feelings would never be reciprocated. Having someone falling for him first was a completely new experience.

To be quite honest, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to return Kiichi’s feelings or not. He just wanted clarity, and he had no idea how to find it.

_Great, now I’m thinking too much again. When am I gonna learn that overthinking doesn’t solve anything?_

Sighing quietly, he took his boxed lunch out of his bag, got up and started walking outside when he passed by Kiichi’s classroom and stopped in his tracks.

Kiichi was there, proudly explaining something to some girl Kimishita could vaguely remember seeing before. Kimishita listened closely, catching a few words that sounded all too familiar. They had gone through this subject in one of their last tutoring sessions, hadn’t they? And Kiichi still remembered it well enough to explain it to other people.

Kimishita knew he should feel proud of himself and his former student, but when he watched Kiichi like this, smiling as he spoke, obviously trying to impress the girl, and when he watched the girl marveling at his explanation and beaming up at him, he couldn’t feel any pride. The only thing he felt was annoyance, annoyance and disappointment. So Kiichi had already moved on, huh? All his worries had been for nothing. He had been replaced.

Kiichi had replaced him. Just like that.

The realization felt like a slap to the face, a bucket of icy cold water splashed over his head. _Stop deluding yourself,_ it seemed to say. _You’re not that special. You’re not so great that Kiichi would still be hung up over you after the rejection you flung in his face._

He knew, dammit! He shouldn’t be surprised. But... it was painful. Being replaced like this was painful. Watching Kiichi move on with his life while he was still here wracking his nerves over the confession was painful. He knew it was selfish and petty of him, but he couldn’t help it. It didn’t seem fair.

Kiichi seemed to finish his explanation, and Kimishita turned and fled the place before he could be caught. _Stop it,_ he told himself. _Stop watching Kiichi, stop thinking about the confession. He moved on, so you can do the same. No need to keep feeling guilty._

It didn’t change the fact that he spent the rest of the day feeling bitter and worthless.

\---

Kimishita couldn’t sleep. His mind was still spinning, a thousand feelings buzzing in his head, keeping him awake and restless. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of Kiichi with the girl would pop up in his head, sending a new pang of disappointment and anger through his chest, disappointment in Kiichi and anger at himself. It was all his fault. He had messed up everything. If only he hadn’t panicked... if only he’d been more sensitive... then maybe...

He wondered what would have happened if he had accepted Kiichi’s confession. Maybe Kiichi would be here right now if he had. Maybe the two of them would be sitting together now, talking about anything and everything without arguing for a change, trying to get to know each other better. Maybe Kiichi would tell Kimishita more about the misadventures of his sister’s dog, and in return Kimishita would tell him about the outdoor cats he liked to pet and that one time in middle school he had taken in an entire box full of abandoned kittens and hidden them in his room until his dad had found them and taken them to the animal shelter. Maybe they would laugh at each other’s stories; maybe they would actually laugh together, instead of only ever laughing at each other. Maybe they’d discover something they had in common among all their differences.

Maybe when they got bored of talking they’d start playing video games and get way too invested and go all out in an attempt to beat each other, or maybe they’d try watching a movie or turn on the old television and fight over the remote because they couldn’t agree on what to watch. Maybe they’d wind up watching a soccer match in the end, and then they would start talking about soccer and disagree on which players and teams were better and argue so loudly that his old man joined in with his own opinions that were even wronger than Kiichi’s. Maybe his father would remark that they sure were good friends and ask if they’d always been this close, and maybe Kiichi would stand up and proudly introduce himself as Kimishita’s boyfriend before the latter could say anything. And it would be awkward, and it would be embarrassing, but Kimishita couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling that spread through his chest at the thought.

He could have been happy with Kiichi, he realized. They could have been happy together, if only he’d given him a chance, if only he hadn’t pushed him away out of panic alone. If only he had apologized when he still could. Now that opportunity was gone, and Kimishita was left with the thoughts of a happiness he couldn’t have.

Why hadn’t he just reacted calmly when Kiichi had confessed to him?

Why hadn’t he gone after him and apologized after hurting his feelings? He should have just called out for him, run after him and caught his hand and told him how he really felt. Screw that, he should have just kissed him right then and there. Why hadn’t he?

Well, not that it mattered anymore. Kiichi had that girl of his. And Kimishita should probably stop thinking about his feelings towards him before he went and fell in love for real.

But if he wasn’t in love, then why did he feel like crying?

\---

Today hadn’t been going well. Kimishita had overslept and arrived late to morning practice, without breakfast, without coffee and in a horrible mood. Instead of making him run laps for being late and giving him the welcome opportunity to be left the hell alone for a few more minutes, the coach had signed him up for club room cleanup duty after afternoon practice. Adding insult to injury, the others had teased him about it mercilessly, loudly wondering about the reason for his tardiness and coming up with possibilities that hit painfully close to home.

But this really took the cake.

Why, why, why in the name of life, the universe and everything, did he just _have_ to collide with Kiichi’s soon-to-be-girlfriend in the hallway?

_Dear world, if you think this is funny, I’ve got some real news for you._

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she stammered, stumbling back, just about to keep walking when her gaze fell on Kimishita’s face. Brown eyes widened in surprise, growing big and round as she blurted out, “Wait a second... aren’t you Tsuku-chan’s teammate?”

Tsuku-chan? Wait a second, hadn’t he heard that nickname before–

_Oh._

“You’re Tsukamoto’s friend,” he remarked, and the girl smiled and nodded. “The girl he was with at the festival.”

“You remember?” She looked amazed and flattered all at once. “I remember you too! You were at the yakisoba stand...” A memory seemed to cross her mind, and she pouted. “You stole Tsuku-chan away to make him help you out, right?”

“Wha–?!”

“Just kidding.” She laughed. “I know the story, Tsuku-chan told me Ooshiba-kun knocked over your stuff... although Ooshiba-kun keeps saying it wasn’t his fault.”

Kimishita snapped to attention. She was bringing up Kiichi by herself? This was his opportunity to ask her about their relationship. Maybe he could find out if Kiichi’s feelings weren’t one-sided this time, if Kiichi would be happy with someone at last. An answer he needed and feared at the same time.

“Are you...” _Don’t sound too obvious, don’t sound too obvious._  “Are you friends with Kiichi?”

She pondered the question for a moment. “Friends, huh...? Well, we’re on okay terms and all... and he sits behind me in class so whenever he doesn’t understand something I explain it to him, although he keeps saying he’s fine.” She grinned with amusement. “Lately he seems to have gotten smarter though, just yesterday he explained something to me! I wonder who’s been tutoring him. And sometimes I ask him how Tsuku-chan’s doing, but that’s about it... so yeah, we’re not close or anything. More acquaintances than friends, you know?”

Kimishita looked at her and knew she was telling the truth. There was no blush on her face, no sign of embarrassment as she spoke, no hint that she might be hiding something.

So they weren’t close. Kiichi wasn’t desperately seeking out her company or dropping unsubtle hints that he liked her. They occasionally talked, but that was it. They were just classmates. Nothing more.

A wave of relief washed over him, relief and hope and gratitude stronger than anything he had ever felt before, stronger than anything he had thought he could feel. His heartbeat picked up, racing through his body like a roller-coaster, a million butterflies taking flight in his stomach.

Kiichi hadn’t moved on yet. He still had a chance.

Thank goodness he hadn’t been watching where he was going. Thank goodness he had crashed into this girl. Thank goodness he had talked to her and found out the truth. Bringing up a hand to hide the blush spreading over his face, he suppressed the sudden irrational urge to grab the girl’s hands and thank her over and over, turning the other way instead.

“Hey, what’s wrong all of a sudden?” she asked, looking up at him in confusion. “Are you okay?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbled hurriedly, avoiding her eyes, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t perceive what was going on. “Just remembered something.”

“Wha– Huh? Wait!”

Kimishita mumbled an apology and hurried down the hallway, still blushing furiously, his heart still somersaulting with joy and excitement.

The girl gave an exasperated huff. “Geez, what’s wrong with you?” she called after him. There was a moment’s pause, then she added, “Tell Tsuku-chan I said hi!”

Kimishita barely heard her. Turning around a corner, he hurried into his classroom and collapsed in his seat, burying his face in his hands to hide the blush and the stupid, moronic smile that he just couldn’t wipe off his lips anymore.

Kiichi hadn’t moved on yet. He still had a chance.

That thought made him so happy, so incredibly, stupidly, annoyingly happy. All wasn’t lost yet. He could still sort things out with Kiichi and apologize and finally tell him his true answer to his confession.

He loved him. He loved Kiichi. The realization came to him like the most natural thing in the world, but it still knocked the breath out of him, left him without air in his lungs as the full force of his feelings kicked in. This wasn’t just a crush. He had fallen head over heels in love with Ooshiba Kiichi, without knowing when or how, but he had, and he had no regrets.

Now he just had to act on those feelings before he lost this chance too.

\---

“Tsuku-chan!”

Tsukushi looked up from his lunch to find Sayuri hurrying towards him, a very excited and confused expression on her face. “Sayuri-chan?” was all he managed to say before she reached him. “What happ–”

“I ran into your teammate today and we got talking and he suddenly started acting really weird! I have no idea what was wrong with him, all I did was tell him I’m not friends with Ooshiba-kun–”

“S-Sayuri-chan, calm down! You’re not making sense...”

Before Sayuri could make any attempt to explain, Kazama piped in, speaking up around a mouthful of food. “Oh, Sayurin, you met Kimishita-kun?”

Sayuri nodded, took a deep breath and told them the whole story. While she was speaking, Tsukushi’s expression turned into a study of wonder while Kazama smirked, the smirk widening into a knowing grin when she finished. “I think I know what’s going on.”

“Kazama-kun...?”

“Tsukushi!” He stood up and leaned forward, grabbing his boyfriend’s shoulders, looking straight into his eyes, his expression serious and focused. “Let’s play matchmaker.”

“ _Eh?_ ”

\---

“So,” Coach Nakazawa stared at the three students lined up in front of him, “how come you three musketeers are all late?”

Tsukushi looked at Kazama, searching for support, ready to blurt out an apology for all three of them if no one else spoke up. Kazama and Ooshiba both looked completely unapologetic; while the latter didn’t care and was more interested in the cat making its way over the school grounds than anything the coach had to say, the former looked awfully pleased with himself, hands stuck in his pockets as he smiled. “We got talking and lost track of time.”

“Well, at least you’re being honest,” the coach said with a sigh that was half annoyance, half exhausted acceptance. “Still a pretty lame reason to come late, don’t you think? As a reward you’re all staying late and helping clean up the club room.”

“Roger!” they answered in unison, a little too enthusiastically on Tsukushi and Kazama’s part, very unenthusiastically on Ooshiba’s. The second-year gave his underclassmen an accusing glare and looked ready to say something before changing his mind and storming off. Tsukushi had more than half a mind to go after him when he was distracted by Kazama nudging his side, grinning and pointing towards a certain face in the crowd.

In ever-growing wonder, Tsukushi watched as Kimishita’s face went from white as a sheet to glowing red, then finally returned back to its usual color (with the cheeks still a shade pinker than usual), a grimace of rage distorting his features. Kazama smirked and gave his boyfriend a thumbs-up. “It’s working!”

\---

Club room cleanup duty with the inseparable first-year couple and Kiichi.

Was this really a coincidence? Kimishita had his doubts about it. There was the way they had all arrived late together with an outstandingly lame excuse, and there was the way Kazama had nudged Tsukamoto and pointed in his direction afterwards. He really wouldn’t be surprised if that smartass was getting all up in his business again.

Oh, this was going to be awkward.

Kimishita’s eyes strayed over to Kiichi, who was still staring off into nowhere as their teammates said goodbye and left one after the other. At last even the coach and Ubukata disappeared, leaving only the four of them behind.

There was a long silence.

Tsukamoto nervously shifted from one foot to the other. Kiichi was still staring away from the others. Kazama was the only one in the room who seemed at ease, either oblivious to the tension in the room or choosing to ignore it.

Kimishita tensed up, his heartbeat fast and painfully loud in the awkward silence. He’d probably have to work together with Kiichi here, the same Kiichi he hadn’t spoken to since the day of the confession, the same Kiichi who had been ignoring him ever since. Would he manage to catch him alone today? Would he be able to talk to him, sort everything out at last? He wanted to. But... would it all work out?

“Okay,” Kazama finally spoke up, breaking the silence. “We’re gonna need some cleaning equipment here, right? Like a broom and maybe a cloth to wipe the dust and stuff... Tsukushi, let’s go find some equipment!”

The boy in question jumped and nodded. “Huh? Ah, uh, yeah! Sure!”

Kimishita tensed up, irritation mixing into his nervousness. Were these two leaving him alone with Kiichi? This was too sudden, he wasn’t ready! What was he even supposed to do?

Cracking his knuckles, he glared down at his underclassmen. “Ditching us, are you?”

“N-No, I swear we’re not! I-It’s just that Kazama-kun’s right, we need something to clean up with and...”

“We’ll be right back!” Before Tsukamoto could finish his sentence, Kazama looped an arm around his shoulders and started walking out of the club room, pulling his boyfriend along. Smiling his brightest smile, he turned to face the two second-years over his shoulder and added, “You guys can go ahead and... _rearrange_ stuff a little.” There was an audible wink in his voice.

So he really was doing it on purpose. Kimishita made a mental note to make him pay for this later. “ _You...!!_ ”

He pulled Tsukamoto through the door and closed it behind them.

Silence.

So here they were. Together. Alone. Alone together. For the first time in ages, and there was so much Kimishita wanted to say. Had to say. He knew he had, or he’d regret it forever. He might not get a chance like this again.

His heart was racing, the sound reverberating in his ears, resonating through his body, so loudly that he thought Kiichi had to hear it. His head felt light, his hands cold and clammy. His mouth was dry. He was scared, he realized, scared in a way he’d never been before, his insides trembling at the thought of what he was about to do, screaming at him to stop. _You can’t do this._

_Yes, I can. If I don’t do it now, we’ll stay like this forever. Not talking... pretending the other doesn’t exist._

He swallowed his fear and took a deep breath.

_Now or never._

“Kiichi.”

There was no reaction. His teammate remained silent, unmoving, and continued to stare at the ground, hands buried in his pockets.

Dammit, this was off to a really bad start. A pang of disappointment shot through Kimishita’s chest, but he shut it down, ignoring his pride as he spoke up again.

“Kiichi, listen to me.”

No answer. Not even a reaction. Kiichi just stared at the ground as if nothing had happened.

Annoyance flared. A spark of anger ignited in Kimishita’s heart, smoldering and burning to fury and white-hot resolve. _Oh, so you don’t wanna listen to me? Well, I’ve got my ways to make you listen._

Without thinking about what he was doing, he marched up to Kiichi, stood on his tip-toes, grabbed his collar, and yanked him down into a rough kiss.

Kiichi went rigid. His entire body froze, unable to move, unable to react or respond, like he had suddenly turned into a life-size doll of himself. When Kimishita pulled back, his eyes were still wide as saucers, unblinking as he gaped down at him, trying to process what had happened.

“Wha...” His voice came out raspy and shaky, barely more than a hoarse whisper. “What just...?”

Kimishita smirked up at him, a small, hopeful smirk that almost turned into a genuine smile as he met Kiichi’s eyes. “Are we talking again?”

“But... but...” Kiichi’s confusion slowly morphed into irritation, irritation morphed into anger. Preparing to throw a punch, he lifted his arm, his other hand grabbing Kimishita’s shirt in a familiar motion. “What was that for, asshole? Do you just kiss random people when you feel like it? I thought you hated my guts!”

“Hah? Was that not obvious enough?” Kimishita shot back, half annoyed, half embarrassed, without any idea what the hell he was doing here, except for the unwavering feeling that it was the right thing. “...Listen. And put your hand down, I can’t talk if you punch me.”

Kiichi still looked utterly confused, but he did as he was told. “So?”

“So...” Oh damn, this was embarrassing. This was so, so embarrassing. Kimishita hated talking about his feelings, and expressing soft emotions was nothing short of a major nightmare. He didn’t want to do this... but he had to be honest here, just this once. He owed it to Kiichi.

“What I’m trying to say is... I didn’t mean what I said when you confessed to me.” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, steady his voice and keep it from shaking. “You just took me by surprise and I... panicked and got mad.” He lowered his head, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “Sorry for that.”

Kiichi remained silent. Kimishita couldn’t bring himself to look up and meet his gaze. If he did, he’d lose his courage for sure.

He took another deep breath and tried to ignore the pounding of his heart, the shaky feeling that took hold of his entire body. “These are my true feelings.”

Kiichi still didn’t answer.

After a long pause, Kimishita finally seized all his courage and looked up. What he found in Kiichi’s eyes was surprise, surprise and complete and utter confusion.

“What?” he snapped when his teammate showed no reaction, just continued staring at him with that weird look in his eyes.

“...What are your true feelings?”

Kimishita gaped at him for a moment, trying to make sense of this level of obliviousness.

“You’re a bigger idiot than I thought,” he grumbled, his face glowing with the heat of a million suns. “Do I really have to spell it out for you? I love you, stupid!”

“...oh.”

Kimishita looked up. He looked straight into Kiichi’s eyes as the realization finally dawned on him and saw everything. Kiichi’s face was burning red. His hands were trembling. His eyes were shimmering with hope, shining with joy, sparkling and aglow with nothing but a million waves of emotion.

Then Kiichi leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed Kimishita, passionately, desperately, like he had been waiting for this moment all his life, like he was afraid of losing it all again the moment they parted. And Kimishita responded, closing his eyes, letting his emotions take control of him, stepping into the eye of the storm and letting himself be swept away by the hurricane that was Ooshiba Kiichi.

At long last they pulled back, breathless and flushed, their heartbeats pounding and racing in sync as they looked into each other’s eyes, unable to speak, unable to think, unable to do anything but stare at each other with joy and amazement and disbelief. Kiichi’s eyes were shining suspiciously as he reached out his arms, and a second later Kimishita found himself crushed in a tight embrace.

“Kii...chi...” he hissed, struggling against the pair of arms squeezing the air out of his lungs. “Kiichi, I can’t breathe...”

The arms only tightened their grip, clenching into his shirt. Kiichi buried his face in Kimishita’s shoulder, catching his breath in a way that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle.

Kimishita smirked, half amused, half affectionate. “Hey now, don’t tell me you’re crying.”

“Am not!” Another quiet sniffle. “I just got something in my eyes!”

Kimishita sighed and rested his head against Kiichi’s shoulder, closing his eyes and shutting out the world around them, forgetting about everything that wasn’t the two of them for the moment. “You’re such a kid.”

It felt so good, so incredibly good. So... right.

Kimishita leaned into the hug, tangled his fingers in Kiichi’s hair and knew that he had made the right decision.

\---

The first-years had instantly known what was up, of course. Not that they’d said anything, they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut; but the looks they’d given them had been more than enough, to say nothing of the suspiciously long time they had taken to get hold of a broom and a mop. Kimishita had half a mind to punch their lights out and more than half a mind to treat them both to ice cream. He did owe them both, after all.

Now the inseparable duo had gone home, and Kimishita was just about to do the same when Kiichi spoke up behind him.

“Hey, let’s walk home together.”

Kimishita paused for a moment, then he turned around and looked at him with mild confusion and quite a bit of irritation. “We live in opposite directions.”

“So what? I’ll walk you home!” Kiichi glared at him, mouth pulled into a pout. “That’s what couples do, right?”

Couples. He and Kiichi... they were a couple now. It sounded strange, hearing it for the first time, but... not bad, somehow. A couple. Together. Dating.

Damn, now he was blushing again.

“Whatever,” he grumbled and shrugged. “But don’t get lost on the way back to your place.”

They walked side by side, neither of them saying a word. Their minds were too full to speak, and so they simply went their way in companionable silence, each taking delight in the other’s presence as people and cars went by and the rain started falling.

Kiichi brushed his fingers against Kimishita’s, quickly, shyly, then pulled back his hand. They walked a few more steps, and he did the same thing again.

Kimishita stopped in his tracks.

Kiichi turned around, a surprised look on his face. “Why’re you stopping?”

Clicking his tongue, Kimishita walked up to him, grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together, feeling a flush creep up the back of his neck and up to his face. “If you wanna hold my hand just say so, idiot!”

They walked home hand in hand, and when they finally reached the store, Kimishita reached up to press a quick kiss to his newfound boyfriend’s lips. “See you, Kiichi.”

Kiichi looked down at him in a daze. “See ya, Kimishita.”

“How much longer are you gonna keep calling me that? We’re dating, moron!”

“...Atsushi?”

Kimishita blushed furiously. “On second thoughts, don’t do that. It sounds stupid.”

Kiichi gave him an amused smirk, and Kimishita knew that he was never going to live this down. “Bye, Atsushi!”

He turned around and headed home and nearly walked into a lamppost. Kimishita gazed after him with an amused smile and a shake of his head.

Ooshiba Kiichi was everything Kimishita Atsushi looked for in a boyfriend. And the other way around.

And it was still new, and it was strange, and it was awkward sometimes, but they were going to get this figured out. They would make this work. Because they knew it was right for both of them, because they loved each other. Because they both knew this was something worth trying for.


End file.
